


Hold Me Down

by X23Wolverine



Series: What Comes After [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 05:24:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9864842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/X23Wolverine/pseuds/X23Wolverine
Summary: Steve is struggling to come to terms with the after-effects of the civil war.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here it is! This somehow ended up being almost three times the length of the previous one-shot. Maybe I was just in the mood for writing now that I'm officially Flu-free!

A steady pulsing inside of his head helped to focus his attention on the bag in front of him as his fists almost methodically slammed into it one after the other. His heavy breathing filled the room, the sounds of fists echoing throughout the large gym. He was forced to blink forcefully as sweat dripped down and clouded his vision. His body ached, a sort of bone-deep ache that just wouldn’t go away no matter how much he rested, so he saw no point in stopping now. He saw no point in doing anything right now; all that mattered was making sure that bag didn’t survive the current fight.  
This was one fight that Steve could control. He knew that he could let everything out on this opponent and not have to worry about anyone getting hurt. He wouldn’t have to look into this opponent’s eyes and see them fill with fear as he raised his shield. He wouldn’t have to see the look of resignation as the opponent lowered their arms, accepting their fate. He wouldn’t have to struggle to stop the momentum of his shield as he brought it down onto the opponent’s neck. He wouldn’t have to hear the deafening clang as shield met suit, instantly darkening the arc reactor, almost killing one of his team members…the look in his eyes…  
His throat tore as a scream ripped from inside of him. The bag was thrown across the gym after the last punch and the chains that used to support it draped across his outstretched arm. They rattled as his body shook uncontrollably and slid to the ground, landing with a deep thump when they hit the matted floor.  
Slowly he straightened his back. He flinched as he took in the damage done by the bag hitting the wall on the opposite side.  
Steve forced his lungs to expand as he took a large breath to attempt to calm himself despite the vice-like sensation that surrounded them. He walked toward the entrance, his mind already unconsciously removing the wraps from around his knuckles, and paused by the doorway. His face stared back at him from the small mirror on the wall. Steve almost didn’t recognize himself these days. He almost constantly had black circles under his eyes and he knew without having to really look that he had lost weight. It wasn’t obvious, because having the serum never made anything obvious, but to him he could tell that he didn’t fit his clothes like he used to. If he were to put the suit on he knew it would probably hang from his frame. Not that he wanted to put the suit back on. It had been a while, probably about a month, but he’d had no desire to bring it out again. He drew his gaze away from the mirror and continued into the hallway, his mind focussing on just getting him to point B. He ignored the looks he knew the others were throwing his way. They were always throwing looks his way.  
His mind came into focus when he was already standing in the middle of his room and he looked around, trying to remember opening the door. He had been doing that a lot lately - missing moments in time because he couldn’t be bothered to focus on anything. A scent caught his attention and brought his focus to the small table near his bed. A plate rested on its surface, some vegetables with what looked (and smelled) like meatloaf were spread haphazardly across it, a piece of bread on top and a glass of milk set next to it. He could see the corner of a small note sticking out from underneath the plate, and with a sigh Steve went over and pulled it out from beneath.

_Eat your food, you idiot. I’m not your mom._

_-Sam_

  
Steve snorted and folded the note neatly in half before he placed it back next to the plate. He sat down on the end of his mattress and his hands immediately bracketed his body as they gripped the edge tightly. His stomach turned as he harbored the thought of eating the meatloaf. No doubt Clint had made it. He had gone into a sort of trance as soon as Steve brought them all here, and it didn’t really stop until someone put him in the kitchen. It wasn’t too long after that it became a staple to find that Clint had left some kind of food out for them all before he disappeared back into his room.  
He briefly registered that he could hear a ringing, but his gaze was locked onto that note underneath the food. He knew that they all worried about him, but it was hard to act normal when he had committed so many atrocities. They just seemed to come one right after the other with no end in sight. His mother always did tell him that he was too headstrong. He never knew when to step down. Of course there were times back in the war when his pigheadedness had saved his life, but the events over the past weeks were evidence that he needed to begin to realize when it has taken him a step too far.  
Steve was jerked out of his daze as a desperate laugh filled the room. His heart pounded, his breath quickened, and his body because rigid. It couldn’t be. But this wouldn’t have been the first time that he imagined Tony’s voice in his room…

_“You fucking bastard. Don’t even answer after sending me the goddamned phone.”_

Steve’s eyes widened in disbelief, and before he realized what was happening his hand was grabbing the phone out of its cradle. He could feel the phone forced tight against his jaw and his teeth were clenched as he held his breath, not quite believing the voice that he was hearing through the receiver.

_“I should fucking hate you, you know? I should want to strangle you.”_

At this Steve closed his eyes tightly, the smallest of breaths escaping through his nose as he bowed his head.

_“I think I did at one point, but I can’t remember exactly when that was. Maybe in that room when I offered you those pens? I opened myself up to you, you know. Told you all of those fucking feelings to try and show you that I was on your side. That we should have been on the same side. All I wanted was to be by your side.”_

Steve remembered that day very clearly. He remembered hearing Tony, but not really listening. He remembered the frustration he felt towards Tony that he wasn’t being heard, that his side wasn’t able to truly explain itself. His memory froze as he realized that was probably exactly how Tony was feeling during that entire confrontation. Steve also realized that during the tennis match he just wanted the same thing as Tony. He wanted to be by his side. He’s always wanted to be by his side.

_“Goddamnit, Steve. I showed up at that stupid compound ready to hear you guys out. By then I knew what Ross was trying to do. I knew how wrong it was. But I was just trying to avoid a fucking tsunami, to try and mold it into a wave that we could all survive. Before the hood was pulled over all of our fucking eyes.”_

  
Steve felt a spark of irritation worm its way into his soul, lighting a fire that was on the edge of uncontrollable. If Tony really wanted to try and save them all then there were a multitude of different directions that he could have taken that might not have led to this outcome. They could possibly all be back together. Maybe they would have never ended it in the first place.

_“But then he showed that fucking video. Do you realize what that did to me, Steve? To see your friend murder my parents? To crush my mom? She was…she…,”_

The fire was quick to die out after hearing that. His gut lurched as the images flashed in front of him. Howard’s face brutally bashed in before being dropped to the ground, lifeless. Maria gasping for breath as Bucky…the Winter Soldier…slowly crushed her windpipe. Steve remembered clearly the look on Tony’s face as he was subjected to watching his parents’ slaughter.  
A sob interrupted his train of thought before it could go any further.

_“I don’t remember going after you guys at first. It wasn’t even that video that sent me into that rage. You realize that, Steve? It wasn’t until you admitted to knowing all of this fucking time. You knew the whole damn time and you kept it from me!”_

A tear managed to escape and made its way slowly down his cheek. Steve still couldn’t fully understand how he had managed to make keeping that information from Tony justifiable. He should have told him as soon as it was discovered. Steve shouldn’t have had to secretly hope that Natasha would tell him so that he wouldn’t have to.

_“I worshipped you as a kid. I looked to you in times when I didn’t know what to fucking do. There was this one night. Dad was drunk. He was pissed about something. Mom tried to calm him down, and the next thing I knew he was throwing her across the room. I remember the noise she made as she hit the wall, her head hitting hard against the corner of the shelf. I was six, thin as a rail, and fucking stupid. I thought I could take him on, protect mom and teach dad his place. I thought I could stand up to him like Captain America did to the Nazis. Punch him right in the face. Ended up in the hospital for the first time that night. My parents told the doctors I fell down the stairs while playing. Three broken ribs, left leg snapped, couple of fingers fractured. Learned after that to keep my mouth shut and just work on whatever would make them both happy.”_

Steve felt numb. It was always strange to hear other people talk about him in such a way. He knew there were comics made to describe his journey through the war. But to hear Tony talk about him in such a way…he didn’t know if he should feel warmth or despair. And no matter how many times Tony had told him (more through body language than actual words) how Howard was toward his own son, it always managed to take him by surprise. When Steve recalls Howard, he would think about the man who threw everything he had into making him who he is today. Who made him his shield. Who flew him into an active war zone, all the while messing with his head over fondue. But now Steve had this other image to counteract what he used to believe. How could the same man treat his wife and son with such hostility? How could that man who fought by his side (in his own way) transform into one who only knew violence and hatred? It makes Steve yearn even more to ask Tony if Howard ever told him or left any evidence to his descent. But if Steve barely had any right to ask back then, he definitely didn’t now.

_“I didn’t even try to fight back when you raised that shield. I wanted you to do it. Sometimes I still want you to do it. I have dreams where I find where you are and go alone to pick a fight just so that this can all end. Everyone would be better off without me here.”_

Steve felt his heart shatter, his lungs seized up, and he slowly shook his head as more tears managed to escape. He knew that Tony had given up. That Tony was giving in. He remembered the look in his eyes as he straddled him, the shield high in the air. In that moment those big eyes held nothing but self hatred and a profound resignation. But Steve couldn’t control his body anymore. His muscles had been acting of their own accord in that moment, and it had taken everything within Steve to be able to change the trajectory from severing Tony’s neck to crushing the arc reactor. That face still haunted his dreams even now. That sound of vibranium colliding with titanium alloy and glass filled his room on nights when sleep alluded him.  
Steve couldn’t get those words out of his head, ‘everyone would be better off without me here”. How could Tony not see that wasn’t true? There was nothing more that Steve wanted then to be able to see his face one last time. Not the face seared into his nightmare, but the face that filled with frustration when something wasn’t flowing correctly in his lab. Or the face that wrinkled with one of Tony’s large smiles that seemed to fill a room.

_“I’m not an idiot. I know that I’m the reason the Avengers fell apart.”_

Steve shook his head again. Tony was an idiot if he thought that. Steve should have listened to him. But then, Tony should have listened to Steve as well. There were so many more variables that led to the termination of the team than Tony wasn't considering.

_“I’m the reason Clint and Scott aren’t with their families, that Wanda is a fugitive. God, Wanda. She’s just a kid. She’s a fucking kid, Steve. So is Peter. And I dragged them both into this. I fucking lost Rhodey his legs, Cap. My Rhodey can’t walk again, not without some kind of help. And Natasha…and Pepper can’t even look me in the eyes anymore…and Sam…and Bucky…and…and,”_

Steve could hear Tony’s breathing begin to accelerate as he finished listing all of those affected by the civil war that occurred between them all. He could hear a low whine coming from the other man, and it’s then that Steve realized that Tony was having a panic attack. He needed to distract him.

“Hey, Tony!”

Steve was almost startled by his own voice as he realized how rough it had originally escaped. He cleared his throat and aimed to project, but to bring the tone itself down to something more comforting.

“Tony, can you hear me?”

Still no response. The whine on the other end was growing in intensity, and Steve could barely hear Tony’s rapid breathing anymore.

“Tony, Tony! Can you hear me? Tony, you need to snap out of this. Breathe in, breathe out. Nice and slow.”

It didn’t seem to work, and frustrated with the entire situation, Steve may have felt a bubble of panic beginning to form.

“C’mon, Tony. Don’t do this to me. You can do it. Tony, I need you to breathe with me, nice and slow. Ready? In, out. In, out. In, out.”

Finally it sounded like Tony was able to get ahold of his lungs. Steve could hear the breathing on the other end begin to even out, and he let out his own sigh of relief. He had witnessed Tony’s panic attacks before. Not too many incidents occurred, but when they did Steve had always found it easier to pull the other man into this arms and anchor him to that plane of existence until Tony was able to register that he was safe. It was infuriating to not be able to do that now.

_“St-Steve?”_

Steve froze. He hadn’t thought about what would happen after he calmed Tony down. He didn’t know what to say.

“…Yeah, Tony, it’s me.”

Steve could hear a sharp intake of breath.

_“What the fuck? Were you listening to everything?”_

Steve flinched. How could he not listen to Tony?

“Yes, Tony. I picked up the phone when I heard your voice through the answering machine. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Steve knew it was more along the lines of being unable to interrupt.

_“That’s…that’s fucked up, Rogers. I didn’t actually want you to hear that shit. Not yet. Not like that.”_

Once again Steve couldn’t find what he truly wanted to say. How could he not want to know more? How could he not want to hear Tony’s voice again, after all of this time? He knew it was selfish, but he couldn’t help himself. He was drawn in before he even knew what his own intentions were.

“I’m sorry, Tony. I…I don’t know what to say.”

That was the first truth that he felt like he had spoken in a while.

_“I can’t do this right now, Cap.”_

A surge of something filled his chest. His hand clenched around the phone and the material began to creak under the pressure.

“Tony, you can’t run away from what just happened - “

But before he could figure out what else to say Tony’s bark of a laugh filled his ear, and his voice was filled with venom as he replied.

_“That’s real fucking rich, coming from you.”_

Steve flinched.

“Tony - “

_“No, you listen to me right now. I am not doing this tonight. I’m drunk, and tired, and starving, and my nerves are shot. I just let out all of this shit because I thought it was a fucking voicemail, Rogers. One that I could delete when I was done and either hang up or leave one telling you to fuck off. So I’m going to hang up right now.”_

Steve scrambled for purchase as he attempted to digest Tony’s words. Pain filled his already shattered heart.

“Tony, please don’t go.”

_“What would you want to talk about? We talked plenty back in Siberia. Plenty was definitely said in Germany. I…I can’t right now. Please just…don’t make this harder than it needs to be. I need to convince myself…,”_

Steve’s breath caught in his throat as he waited to hear the rest of Tony’s sentence. He knew what was said back in Germany and Siberia. But there were so many more words that were left unsaid. He knew that there was so much more that he wanted to tell Tony, that he has wanted to tell Tony for a long time. Steve never knew if what he felt for Tony was every reciprocated, and he had always been too much of a coward to take that final step into unknown territory. He almost laughs at the irony of it all. He had no problem during the war to charge without any preamble into rough terrain. But put him in a situation with a man so large in life as Tony and Steve was left floundering like a child.

“What, Tony? What are you not telling me?”

Steve could practically feel the silence that filled line as Tony hesitated once more.

_“Goodbye, Steve. Don’t wait up.”_

Steve’s body jolted as his mind registered what those words meant. He couldn’t let Tony hang up the phone now.

“Tony?! Tony!”

Steve was only met with a dead ring.


End file.
